I've loved the phrase, "island garden," even before we relocated to Moose Island, Maine.
The resonance comes in a classic book of that title by poet Celia Thaxter from her efforts on Appledore Island at the other end of the state. Her volume is illustrated by the great American Impressionist painter Childe Hassam, an addicted summer visitor. He made some stunning paintings on the island.
My wife and I did make a pilgrimage to the site, which once included a hotel considered by many to be America's first artists' colony. Nowadays, you do need permission to land there – we arrived on a research vessel as guests of the University of New Hampshire, which shares a major ornithological center with Cornell in what had been a World War II watchtower and bunkers.
Moose Island, in contrast, connects to the mainland by a causeway – no need for a ferry – but it's still an island, an element that grows in awareness the longer I'm here.
Celia's text often laments the arrival of garden slugs on the previously uninfected island, a pestilence we certainly understand, even before relocating from New Hampshire.
Alas, we do have those slimy destructors here. Apparently, Celia was unaware of the advantages of using seaweed as a mulch, one that repels the offenders in both its fresh and dried states. It's something I've previously posted on. And something I need to reapply here.
While her garden was mostly flowers, ours skewers more toward edible items. And that adds a further layer of offenders, as you've been seeing here: deer. The ones with voracious appetites.
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